Mrs. Katherine Saunders and clan visit The Silver Thimble

[Jacob Swainswick]

Swainswick cleared his throat, interposing himself neatly. Whilst a part of him had accepted that Miss Daye's soul, being in a similar situation to that of his mistress, may indeed have been damned - were theosophical pronouncements upon the matter to be believed - he saw no need to compound her problems by contributing toward her corruption.

"Quite so, Miss Daye," he smiled, "and in the salons of Paris such rakish lines are all the rage." As he spoke he reached behind his back and flipped the journal closed. "Doctor Taylor has opted for a more refined cut, however, as befits his standing. The question, however, of colour - and choice of fabric still remains. Something mid-to-dark, I think: a Doctor is no popinjay, is that not so?" Swainswick smiled at this small point, disarming any suggestion of a barb. "But that is not to say that we seek a drab look."

Swainswick took a step back, raising a finger to his own chin as he offered his ajudgement. "You have a good chin, sir, and a brow that speaks of scholarship and compassion. A hint of warmth in the waistc't would not be amiss; it would underscore those aspects. I say we could risk that. Would you not agree, Miss Daye?"

[Samuel Taylor]

Taylor glances at Christine, then down at the closed sketchbook.

"On second thought Mr Swainswick...I will take one of these new styles of waistcoat. And I will have another of this style..."

He pats the waistcoat he is wearing.

"In black I believe, unless you can reccomend another colour...that does not show up blood stains?"

He turns his head to Christine.

"What is your opinion Ms Daye?"

[Jacob Swainswick]

"Sir!" Swainswick sounded slightly shocked; there was, after all, a lady present. "I, ah, I beg your pardon. If you recall I recommended a fellow just north of the gate-bridge who deals in leather-worked goods. I can furnish his address if you desire. I'm certain that he would be able to equip you with a suitable apron for your - excuse me, Miss Daye - to protect you during, ah - that is, during any surgical procedures.

"As to the question of colour: black is very traditional, sir; but perhaps something in a warm russet..?"

[Samuel Taylor]

Bloody hell...

Taylor blinks slowly

"I will take two of each style Mr Swainswick. One in black and the other in..."

He blinks, looking to Christine he smiles.

"..'warm russet' as you say. Do you have samples of this colour you recommend? And what material would you say? It must be relatively hard wearing and able to resist the weather."

[Christine Daye]

Christine giggles.

"Oh, dear Dr Taylor... always so practical! And the difficulties of the medical profession..."

She smiles warmly at him.

"I think that you will look very fine in warm russet."

(It's obvious to anyone who looks that warm russet is a more than fair description of her own hair colour.)

[Jacob Swainswick]

"Give me but a moment."

With long, quick strides Swainswick rapidly fetched what initially looked like two sizeable volumes; upon opening, these were revealed to contain a kind of sample selection. Within were a series of fine fabrics, arranged in a way so as to provide a selection of hues that would give any viewer, on initial inspection, cause to question whether the vocabulary existed sufficient to distinguish them. The young man slid a well-manicured thumb between the 'leaves' of the first tome, flicking it casually open and running his fingers carefully over the rich, deep material so revealed.

"This is a particular favourite of mine," he said. "See how cleverly the weave catches the light? The effect is almost mesmeric - and yet, without being gaudy. It hangs well, and will suffer a fob-pocket - surely a necessity for one in your profession? - without ruining the line.

"At least," he added, "it will do so at Miss Audley's careful command." He seemed pleased. "You mentioned magic, Miss Daye. Sometimes it seems so. Miss Audley is possessed of a unique talent; but like any artist, it is not only her vision that is clear, but her understanding of the materiel at hand, and the painstakingly-won ability to realise that vision. Not all of our clientele are so fortunate, perhaps, to be possessed of Doctor Taylor's commanding physiognomy; but our patrons do possess good taste, and, 'though I say it myself, I fancy that all leave this establishment with that good taste writ for the world to admire - by a cunning and clever hand.

"It is a rare privilege for one such as myself to be able to work with her." he paused for a moment, reflecting. "Ah yes, now this! To me this evokes the thought of a low fire, reflected in burnished gold." His eyes shone as he displayed the next fabric, a warm satin. "One must not neglect the lining of a good waistcoat. It is not only what one presents to the world, but also to oneself. In donning such a garment, a gentleman should take a moment to absorb, to reflect upon that which he puts forth to the world. To stride forth, with head held high." Swainswick tilted his own chin, pleased with the notion.

"We say that beauty lies within; and with the same breath, that appearances are everything. I ask you: it is a conundrum, is it not? I would suggest that it is not beyond solution. A good man may wear a poor suit, and he is still good; but a good man in a fine suit - ah! That's the thing!"

[Valentina Audley]

Valentina smiles warmly. "It is always wise to be sure of your intended gentleman and plan accordingly." She tilts her head consideringly, then picks up a couple of the white garments, holding them out for Constance's perusal. They are entirely white, with pintucks and the most delicate lace trim.

"These could be described as the opposite to the black set and yet..." She gives Constance a knowing look, the twinkle in her eyes clearly evident. "I would suggest that the wearer could find them more versatile... If she were inventive."

[Mrs K. Saunders]

Katherine decides to shut out Valentina and Constance's conversation as much as she can.

Internally she boils with rage. How dare she speak to me in that way? Doesn't she have any sense of who I am and what business I could provide to her? Well she is an Ancillae and she feels that I am a lesser Neonate, does she? Perhaps she has to hit out at those whom she considers to have less status as, despite obviously being a kindred for some time, she stills has to work. Fancy having to toil to make your ends meet as a seamstress for centuries, that would make you sour. Does she not know that the customer is always right and does not ever have to accept being treated like this? Especially one of my standing.

But no Katherine today we smile and take her scorn, another time we will repay her three fold.

[CFlaubert]

Constance looks over the pair suggested by Valentina...

"Well Ms Audley, one does strive to be inventive in all things... perhaps you are right, and these would be a more appropriate choice. I will take these, and I shall thank you for your assistance in this matter. You have been most helpful. I am sure we can be of assistance to each other again in the future. Perhaps we should re-join Mrs Saunders and Ms Daye?"

[Christine Daye]

Christine eyes up the proffered fabric samples, her head tilted, considering them, admiring how the weave of the outer fabric catches the light, the soft sheen of the satin.

"Oh, yes... they are quite, quite beautiful to look upon... and will look very well indeed..."

Her gaze flicks over to look at Taylor, a gentle smile on her lips.

"But the look is not everything... the feel of the fabric is as important as the look, I find..."

She gently touches the fabric with one fingertip, stroking the weave, then frowns slightly.

"But I cannot tell with my gloves on. What do you think, Dr Taylor? For the ultimate decision rests with you on this matter."

She smiles again at the two men, a dreamy look crossing her face.